


Emperor Pendragon

by ScarSense



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Action & Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ancient Rome, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Historical, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Short, Slash, Two Shot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-12
Packaged: 2020-06-26 20:39:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,424
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19775992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScarSense/pseuds/ScarSense
Summary: Uther Pendragon passed away, leaving Arthur to become the future emperor of the Roman Empire. To Morgana and Merlin's horror, Arthur decides to host a gladiator tournament- with him being one of the participants.





	Emperor Pendragon

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to write something because I can read around 15k words/hour, but struggle writing. Since I have commitment issues with my work, I'm planning one only one chapter after this to conclude it. I tried to be historically accurate, but in the end having King Arthur appear in Ancient Rome is kind of a history-wrecker. :) Follow my tumblr @Tallboxofwater for any art I post about this fic!

The palace was silent, until Merlin heard shuffling near his chamber door.

He quickly reacted to the noise and sat upright in his bed. A few hushed thuds sounded on his door, and he hesitantly rose from his sheets, cautiously opening the door. He exhaled the breath he'd been holding when he recognized a timid Morgana anxiously peering back at him.

"It's the small of night, Morgana, what do you need?"

She looked sheepish, her right hand reaching up to pull at a curl on her head. "I had a vision about Arthur. It's about tomorrow."

That was all he needed to hear before hurrying her in and closing the door behind them. "What did you dream?"

Raising the back of her hand to her forehead, she closed her eyes in concentration. "I can see clearly Arthur lying on the ground. And snakes," her face contorted into an unreadable expression. "Repulsion. Panic. Oh, Gods, Merlin, you must do something! Surely you can convince Arthur to give up the fight? I mean you are his, well.." 

"His water and fire? No, not yet," Merlin reddened. "It would be difficult to explain to the Senate why they have to accept that the Court Physician suddenly the property rights to all of Rome, and that there would be no blood-related heir."

"Here I was thinking secret consort, but I suppose just a lover would be enough to convince him as well," she smirked. "I'm quite surprised he hasn't taken an arrow to the knee yet. you've.. 'known' each other for what, years now?"

"He's been busy finishing the Colosseum, and being a new emperor," Merlin sighed. "I understand Arthur has a lot going on in his world, and when he's ready I will always be here for my once and future king."

"I hope he'll be alive that long. I'll talk to Arthur tonight and convince him to back down, and hopefully your dream will come true rather than mine," Morgana murmured, and walked out of Merlin's chambers, shutting the door quietly behind her.

-

The night was old, the moon barely setting near the top of the Colosseum as Arthur wandered the halls of the stone arena. Uther nearly emptied the Roman treasury creating the very columns Arthur now grazed his fingers across. The endless stone arches were designed by the most talented masons on the Italian peninsula, as well as the engineering feats required to allow water to fill the bottom of the sandy floor, and the elaborate system of tunnels that allowed the moving of wild animals as well as small armies of soldiers. 

Arthur had been told his entire life the building was meant to create and enhance Roman patriotism, re-enact war battles, and ensure Arthur would be a well-liked ruler before he even reached the throne. But he knew from Uther's fascination of it and haste to complete it as soon as possible that it was more than that. Hell, his father gave the building by far more attention than he ever spared his son. He could only presume it was to commend Ingraine by hosting a tournament in her honor in the most regal arena in the Mediterranean. 

He kicked a loose pebble off the wall, sending it echoing off benches where the masses sat to watch the games. Workers were preparing for the next day's event- the final round of the gladiator tournament, hosted by 'Emperor' Arthur Titus Pendragon. 

He could hear the strides of the Ward's footsteps coming closer to him, and sighed. "You know Morgana, I do have hours of the day that are open forum."

"Open forum doesn't matter when the emperor has signed his own death warrant," she retorted, puffs of breaths resounding around her. She had been running around looking for him for an hour.

"Then why are you here, if you insist I'm already dead?"

He turned on his heels and looked at her. As always, she looked somewhat divine, garbed in black robes similar to the ones of Pythia, an infamous Oracle worker. "Don't fight Valiant tomorrow. Gods know I won't stop you, but.." Frustration was written on her expression. "I can't help but care about you, you know."

"If you care about me, why can't you just let me go through with my choices? My decisions?" he snapped. "You care for my father as much as I do, yet you seem to hate the idea of me honoring him the same way he honored my mother."

"It's always like this with you. You seek your father's attention so much as to die for him, even when he can no longer bear witness. You seek honor, when there is clearly none to be earned. Haven't you proven yourself enough to him and Rome? You've given speeches to the Senate, became a Commander, captured Jerusalem, ended the lives of your father's political opponents, all before becoming emperor," she ranted in a hushed tone. "This fight will only hurt you Arthur, I say that as a friend."

Arthur didn't want to hear any more. He walked past her and started towards the lowest floor to be escorted back to the palace. 

"Valiant will kill you! At least concede the match for your loved ones who are still alive. Do it for me!" She called after him. 

"If no one else, do it for Merlin!" 

He hesitated, before continuing down the hall to the ground below. 

-

The next morning, Merlin and Arthur stood over a large stone basin in the dry, sandy room. The room, hardly larger than a servant’s quarters, was only lit by a sconce on the far wall and the trellis-patterned door that led to the arena sands beyond. 

Merlin shook his clasped hands repeatedly, hearing the clinking sound the stones in his hands made. “Tular eisne shaft,” He chanted once before tossing the stones. They splashed into the bowl, settling on the bottom of the basin.

They looked at the stones beneath the water. “It seems Mars is in my favor today,” Arthur relaxed a bit when he noted that the symbol for the god of War, etched into an agate, was face up. Merlin simply nodded in agreement and continued peering into the water, which was about two feet deep.

“Yes sire. Minerva is there too.”

“I already saw her, thanks for pointing out the obvious, Merlin,” Arther snarked, no real serious tone in his voice. The truth was, he could barely see the bottom of the basin, let alone recognize the intricate patterns of the stones in the dark water.

Now that Merlin has mentioned it, he could recognize those two symbols, but there was yet a third one among them he couldn’t make out.

Thankfully Merlin had learned a thing or two from being around Arthur, because with one look he could see Arthur’s furrowed brows and his slightly clenched jaw. “Jupiter. Gods, Arthur. Your fate is entirely up to the king himself!” he proclaimed, glancing up at Arthur. “The last time his presence was at the Colosseum, a soldier was fighting several wolves with nothing but a bow and the grace of Mercury...”

Arthur was too fixated at Merlin’s eyes, the same color as the deep blue of the basin water, to pay attention to him. Ever since Merlin had revealed his ability to communicate with divine powers, Arthur noticed Merlin's irises would contain flickers of gold for a few minutes after incantations or non-verbal spells. He also noticed how alive he seemed when he chanted, as if he was truly a divine being himself. Soft spoken words in a language forgotten by man brushed off Merlin’s lips just as effortlessly as his normal vernacular. 

Like the ones Arthur wasn’t hearing right now.

“...him a mad man. Morgana actually had a vision of a man of similar mind becoming emperor one day, funnily enough. 'Commodus', he's prophesied to be called. You’re not listening, again, are you, Arthur?"

Arthur quickly regained his composure when he heard his name. He looked up at Merlin's expectant gaze. "I agree?" He guessed.

"You really are an idiot. If you're like this all day, Rome is doomed."

Defensively, he replied, “Well perhaps, Merlin, it would be best to suit me up rather than sit and do nothing all day.”

He saw the natural instinct to banter from Merlin, then saw it quickly fade as his body relaxed again, humor alight in him. “Ah, yes,” Merlin said, mouth quirked. “I’ll get started on that, you royal prat.” 

He got closer to Arthur, painfully close. He could smell the assortment of potions and ingredients Merlin kept in his physician's office on his tunic. The smell of cloves, cinnamon, and sandalwood made him yearn to pull him closer and embrace his enchanting essence.

Merlin, looking straight into Arthur’s eyes, slowly started to run his fingers on the gold etchings of the Tyrian-dyed purple toga adorning his figure. When he found the correct folds on the back of his left shoulder, he slid the fabric off Arthur’s built form. The toga landed in a soft heap on the floor.

Merlin had seen Arthur’s bare figure countless times, both as part of his daily duties to dress him, and as his lover. This particular time, however, did nothing but add a heavy weight to his heart. Bitter tears threatened to well up. It could very well be the last time he ever saw Athur. Despite the insults and stubbornness, he really was kind-hearted. He just wished he'd had the brain cells required to cancel the tournament, or to better yet not compete in the first place.

But Arthur was always doomed to be Arthur- brave, selfless, and in constant proximity to danger.

Blinking his emotions aside, Merlin turned to a corner of the room, grabbed the shined armor pieces, and worked tentatively, slowly strapping the Murmillo-style armor onto Arthur. All of it had been custom made for him, and there wasn’t an armor quite like it. The Pendragon insignia was embellished in gold wherever possible, including on the iron shin guards, and the large leather belt keeping the fabric covering his underneath in place. His right arm guard was modeled after the centurion one, but the plating continued down the length of the arm, cushioned by fabric on the underside. To emphasize Arthur’s regality, a Tyrian-dyed cape was donned on the back and reached his mid-calf. It looked like the color of dried blood.

“Your sword and shield, Emporer,” he stumbled, handing Arthur his gladius.

“You are the only one I don't want to hear that title from,” Arthur murmured. "Aren't I more to you?" Merlin bit his tongue. He inspected the blade with scrutiny, and stepped back to swing it a few times. It felt like no other sword he had ever wielded. It seemed to be in complete sync with him, with an energy not different from his own. The sword and him were almost communicating, which, now that Arthur thought about it, was probably the weirdest thing he’d thought in a while. “Quite amazing balance, but a lot longer than normal. Why is it not my usual blade?” 

“...Gwen made a few adjustments that might suit your tastes. The hilt has rectangular geometric sides, and a longer blade. We thought ‘Excalibur,’ as ..she named it, would be good luck.” Merlin did not want to mention that he had sought out a dragon to forge it. 

“I see. It will have to do,” Arthur understated, sheathing the sword and making his way back towards Merlin. He stiffly clapped the side of Merlin’s shoulder, and averted his gaze when he saw Merlin’s wide eyes focusing on him. “I might not see you again, so I should let you know I think the world of you. I love you, for the record, as any man should.” His body froze at the confession, which might as well have been a love sonnet. Arthur wasn’t one to say such things. “I mean- not that any man should, I mean- they would be a fool to dislike you, is what I was trying to say..” he backtracked, nervously running his iron-plated hand through his hair. "This is badly timed, but just in case something goes horribly wrong out there, I needed to say it." When he got no response from Merlin, he sighed and turned around and began to walk away. Before he’d gone a step, he was roughly tugged back and felt a brush of Merlin’s lips on his cheek.

“Just.. please tell me you’ll see me again?” The breathy question in his ear made Arthur heat up a bit. He pulled back to look at his warlock. His golden-eyed, teary-eyed, gorgeous warlock. The other side of his coin. Arthur gently cupped the sides of Merlin’s head and their foreheads brushed up against each other. They remained still. Arthur took in the lovely black curls that framed his face and cheek bones. He took a double-take at his pink, slightly open mouth.

“By Jupiter’s decree, I shall return.” Arthur promised, suddenly dry-mouthed and wanting nothing more in the world than to run his lips against Merlin’s, to sweetly embrace all of Merlin’s warmth. 

Merlin beat him to it, and their lips came together with a fervent passion. Arthur’s right arm reached out and pulled Merlin’s back toward him until their bodies were flush together. Salt from Merlin’s silent tears melded with their embrace, making it feel like a bitter goodbye rather than a kiss for good fortune.

Merlin gave him one last peck and pulled back, and looked up at Arthur with glassy eyes. The raw pain in his expression made Arthur almost want to resign from his fight.

“Sire, your presence is needed at the gate,” a guard called. It pained and sobered him simultaneously. 

Merlin reluctantly handed Arthur his helmet took a step back. “I will be in the tents, with Morgana. Waiting for you.” He turned and walked over to the basin, and collected the agate stones from the bottom. He clutched Jupiter, and on an impulse, handed the point to Arthur. “Let’s pray the Gods bring you back to me.”

Arthur took the stone in hand and held it tightly, feeling small cuts forming where the edges of the stone cut into his flesh. He wanted to say then thousand more goodbyes, but the sound of a cornu filled the arena outside. It was time. Pocketing the agate in his leather belt, he took a last look at Merlin leaving the room before heading to the gate.

**Author's Note:**

> *Mumbo Jumbo Historic facts from a Certified Nerd*  
> "Sharing water and fire" (aquae et ignis communiciatio) in Latin, is a Roman phrase and references Consortium, used in a technical sense for property rights inherited from heirs and from marriage. Fire and water is symbolically more meaningful because it means to share everything, rather than simply property. Kind of like the modern term soulmates.
> 
> Uther and Arthur are based off Emperors Vespasian and Titus, who saw the construction and completion of the Colosseum. Coincidentally, they are also father and son.
> 
> Roman nobility believed holding tournaments for their deceased would appease the gods and allow good passage to the afterlife for them.
> 
> Romans did not throw stones (which are Nordic in heritage), but they did cut open animals and inspect their organs as a form of divination. The Latin Merlin says is a phrase used in the ritual.
> 
> Tyrian purple was the most regal dye available at the time. It was difficult to get and very expensive. The best color of Tyrian was actual a color like maroon and dried blood. It became a standard color for Nobility work clothing.


End file.
